


Early to Rise

by giwp



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU prompt, Elevator Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, POV Marco Bott, Pediatrician Marco, Sexual Content, Stripper/Law Intern Jean, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giwp/pseuds/giwp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco's new to the neighborhood and although he's ran into the guy a few times, the circumstances for finally speaking to the guy leaves Marco on his ass more than once in the early morning hours. </p><p>Prompt: So we've never met but our showers are on opposite sides of the same apartment wall so sometimes we're showering at the same time and I can hear you moaning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Early to Rise

**Author's Note:**

> There was a [prompt on tumblr](http://mamaarachne.tumblr.com/post/118000729410/awful-aus-ciaoloueh-awful-aus-so-weve) and I've seen it so many times but the new addition takes the cake and i have no impulse control. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_Can...can he not hear me humming the Star Wars theme song?_

_I mean. I know I’m usually prone to knocking over an array of shampoo bottles and it hasn’t happened yet but the water hitting the floor of the shower stall has got to be something he can hear._

_Or does he think that the sound of the shower is loud enough for me not to hear him doing-_

_Doing the nasty...._

_Holy shit is he trying to claw a hole through the wall?!_

_And there goes his shampoo bottles. Hah._

_That’s a pretty colorful and large array of curse words I’ve ever heard a single person go through in five seconds. Where the hell did he even learn all of those words?_

_I barely recognized half of them and he said all those under…his circumstances._

_…_

_Is-is he…you’ve got to be fucking kidding me._

_How am I supposed to focus on getting the soap off my body when he moans like a cat in heat? A cat in heat that’s standing like three feet away from me._

_Just the single, thin wall of a shitty apartment building keeping me from being head-on with my neighbor jacking off to who knows what._

_So close to the guy with the weird blond haircut and smirk that would look really nice under-_

“Shit. Wait!”

I’m yelling before I find myself sitting straight on my ass under a stream of hot water that’s probably going to run my rent even higher under the stupid California water restrictions. But it’s too late now.

The deed is done.

And now I’m sitting on the wet floor surrounded by those blasted shampoo bottles I praised so highly of not just a few minutes ago for staying in their designated spaces. A consequence of my tendency to flail my hands around before tripping over my own feet whenever shit hits the fan. And holy shit has shit hit the fan. The water dripping down my forehead and onto my face with a pretty hard boner arching straight up onto my stomach can be considered shit hitting the fan, right?

Yes? Well there is going to be a lot of damage control once I get some clothes on and the guy next door realizes that that-

Wait. The sound of water running through the walls goes dim as a sign that ol’ neighborly wanker shuts his side of the pipe off.

Did he realize that I’ve probably been able to hear him this whole time? Or did he just…finish?

I can feel the deep blush crawl up my cheeks, the blood pumping straight back up into my face and the anxiety of the stillness from the other side of the shower wall making my dick as flaccid as a soggy piece of paper.

I slip around for a second but I finally get the water off and quickly pick up the loose bottles off the floor before wrapping a towel around my waist and stepping back into the rest of my bathroom. The steam has fogged the small vanity mirror up quite a bit but a quick rub down with my forearm gives me enough sightline to see the freckles on the bridge of my nose and the whites of my teeth as I bare them out to inspect them.

Should probably brush before I leave for work.

Reaching for the little latch that swings the mirror out to reveal the shelves bolted to the wall, I freeze when I hear the thumping from across the wall.

Neighbor boy is still there.

I try to ignore how thin the walls are and how if I focus just the slightest I can hear every single bit of movement from the other apartment’s bathroom. Usually this logic doesn’t apply anywhere else in the apartment but for some reason, the bathroom has been the place to be if snooping was the game to play.

And I was totally not about to play. Nope. I have teeth to brush and wow I really need to buy more toothpaste.

I stick the brush laden with paste into my mouth and let myself drown my ears in the sound of bristles on teeth. Ignoring the fact that I can still hear the man on the other side of the wall thumping away at the wall.

What the hell is he even doing? Trying to send Morse Code?

I keep brushing; he keeps slamming things into the wall.

Maybe he’s trying to gage whether he really did hear me falling in the shower.

Does he think that it was part of his imagination that he just got caught giving a tug in the shower or is he just a part-time handyman and he likes to hang up pictures right after masturbating in the shower.

Real man things. The manly man that showers with a hammer and nails close by.

I spit into the sink and I’m tempted to wait out for the sounds to dissipate before turning my sink on. Letting him think that it was all a part of his imagination.

I mean it would be for everyone’s best if I pretend I never heard a thing and he gets to think that no one heard him doing it in the shower so early in the morning before going off to work.

I mean I could.

But I won’t

I let only the littlest bit of water out to rinse my toothbrush before I stick it back in its place behind the mirror. Closing the vanity, I stare back at myself, watching the stupid smile cross my face in anticipation as I stand with my hands braced around the small sink in the already small bathroom. I wait a second, hoping that the guy hasn’t given up on finding what he needs.

The loud thump on the wall throws me off for a second but bounce back and react quickly as I raise both palms up and slam them on either side of the mirror as hard as I can without knocking the thing loose.

I stand there, with my hands still on the wall and my face smiling into the mirror so up close, and wait for some kind of reaction.

And oh a reaction do I get.

It’s probably the girliest shriek I’ve heard in a long time and I work at pediatrics hospital.

I bring both of my hands back up to cover my mouth before I let out an ugly laugh in the silence that follows. I can hear him cussing up a storm on the other side of the wall and I feel bad for a second before I hear the repeated “oh my god”s and I lose it as I grab onto the sink and hunch over to laugh loudly straight into the pipes. The whole building can probably hear me with how loud I’m being but hey me being loud was not what started this.

I can just explain “the neighbor started it”.

I laugh even harder at the thought and I’m clutching at my stomach trying not to bark up the taste of toothpaste in my mouth from how ridiculous this all is.

Another slam hits the wall and it’s enough to get me back on my ass, laughing into knees and trying to remember how to breathe without wheezing like an elephant.

Footsteps from the other apartment tell me that the guy’s left his bathroom and I take that as my chance to find my heartbeat again and I stand back up and do the same. The thicker walls of the bedroom means he won’t be able to hear me and I thank the lord for that as I try not to chuckle even more as I throw on my slacks and dress shirt before I go digging for one of my ties.

It was always the ties that got lost in the mess of my wardrobe while the rest of my clothes always managed to stay ironed and neat.

Taking my time in the early morning hours was a luxury that I could only thank the wonderful coworkers back at Trost Hospital for and I love to take it as a chance to grab coffee before work but today it’s put to even better use as I take my pace in lacing up my shoes before grabbing a coat to shrug on. It’s early May and although the summer weather has begun, mornings were still temperamental and a quick check on my phone said just the same.

Grabbing my keys and wallet all other necessities, I make my way towards the small living room to head out for the day.

Hopefully Mr. Neighbor has already left for work and I won’t end up laughing rudely into a stranger’s face. Being new to the building and cackling hideously into someone’s face wasn’t usually the best impression to make. I mean yeah I’ve seen the guy shoot straight past me without even a nod of the head but the hello’s were still due and the circumstances were kind of awkward.

Didn’t need to make it more intense by running straight into the guy you just heard jacking off in the shower just half an hour ago.

Sliding myself into the jacket as I open the door, I make sure to keep my phone in its pocket before turning around to lock up behind me. I have a long day ahead with appointments and a lot of shots and checkups to administer and hopefully a full two hours today to spend up in the NiCu before I have to run back down to give more shots and checkups.

The baby ward was always the best place to be during a long, stressful day downstairs. The looks of happiness and joy on new mothers and the unsuspecting gazes from little babies only a few hours into the world were a delight to look after. A constant reminder to get that transfer set up before the August rolls around and Sasha has to bring her little lump into the world for Connie to coo over with him.

But until then, it was a life of crying toddlers and anxious parents who don’t know that soda is something that should never be put into a sippy cup let alone a baby bottle. Or those parents that put chocolate milk into their newborns bottles because “it’s milk. What’s the problem”. Or that one time I had to explain that no, your previous partner’s traits will not be found in your child’s genetics. The baby will have only the biological dad’s genes and your own.

Just thinking of what stupidity could come with the day ahead dug a deeper hole into my resolve to remember to order the largest caffeinated drink Starbucks can give me without giving me a diabetic stroke as well. I chuckle to myself at the morbid irony of a doctor having a stroke over coffee and not from the stress itself before it’s like I’ve slammed myself into a cement wall.

I freeze midstep as I turn to walk down the small hallway down towards the elevator. Blocked by the slightly shorter man with the blond hair and dark undercut, a shiny piercing glinting in the sparse hallway lighting from his eyebrow and ears. A deep scowl on his thin face that makes him look kind of like a horse if you tilt your head and squint a little.

Which I obviously don’t do right now because all I’m seeing is a very angry man with arms crossed over his chest and a rage that’s boiling straight into me making me fidget with the keys in my hand.

“Uh-”

He cuts me off before I can offer any amount of a greeing. “You’re an ass.”

I frown down at him, blinking a few times before I raise an eyebrow at him and mirror his stance, letting my hands come up and cross over my own chest. “And you jack off in the shower.”

He splutters around and I watch as a trail of spit flies out of his mouth and he doesn’t notice it but it draws me to stare at how he his lips open and close; his mind trying to figure out what to say. “So you did hear me then?”

I snap my head back up to look at his face. His eyes have gone softer. Embarrassment, maybe?

“Yeah. And did you not hear me at all while I was taking a shower? Would’ve figured you’d be more _aware_ of your surroundings before pulling on your junk.”

The guy blushes – like honest to god blushes a deep red that reaches the tips of his ears down straight into the collar of his shirt. He’s rather well dressed for so early in the morning and the curiosity cakes into the center of my attention as I watch the guy squirm around for a second. “So why are you up so early? Do you have work or something?”

It isn’t on anyone but the stigma of the eyebrow piercing has me raising an eyebrow at the guy. Where the hell could this guy even be working at so early in the day? Are people finally being lenient on piercing because hallelujah for that. Maybe Ymir will finally find a respectable job to help Krista with the rent.

The guy squints his eyes back at me, calculating and judging right back before he relaxes and pales back into his natural shade of color. “I’m an intern at the law firm in downtown.”

“You’re training to be a lawyer?” It’s genuine surprise and he probably catches it as he brings his arms back up protectively. A resolve on his face that he’s done taking my shit and I try to relax my face knowing full well that nobody likes a pretentious asshole. “I mean-”

“Yeah I am. And I know how I look, dude. Piercing and a harsh face. It’s useful when you spend the nights stripping to pay the rent on the shitty apartment next to the resident douchewaffle.”

“Look I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be judgy.” I start, sincerely. No use lying with this guy. And I honestly hadn’t really meant anything by it.

Go I could really use a coffee.

“I mean you have to pay rent somehow, right? I wasn’t trying to offend you or your profession uh…”

He stares back at me before finding whatever it is he was looking for before turning his head and replying. “Jean.”

“Jean,” I repeat to myself. Sounds French. “I’m Marco.”

He takes my outstretched hand with a grain of salt but his grip is firm and my mind flashes straight into the gutter where the shower water is probably settling amongst other things more thick as I remember what had just happened thirty minutes ago.

He seems to sense my tenseness and the fact that I’m staring at our entwined hands before he rips it away and scowls hard. “God you’re such a perv.”

I rub the back of my neck with the hand that had just held Jean’s and feel the little flutterings of pink making its way up into my cheeks. I don’t say anything as we stand there staring at each other. Me trying to find something to say that won’t make me look like more of an ass and Jean probably trying to find an excuse to escape.

He shuffles on his dress shoes for a second before pointing over his shoulder towards the elevator. “Right well I better start heading to work. It was…nice meeting you Marco.”

The hesitance on the “nice” throws me off for a second and Jean makes it a few paces before I catch up to walk beside him, smiling like an idiot again, ready to slam my hands against the wall when the time is right. “Actually if you don’t start soon, I was wondering maybe you’d like to get some coffee. I mean, we are neighbors and we should get to know each other better than just what happened this morning, ya know?”

“Um. I don’t know-”

“My treat,” I interrupt his indecision.

He seems to think it over, his reply snaking around in his mouth as I can see his tongue poking against the inside of his cheeks.

He’s adorable.

He looks back at me, a cute, playful expression on his face that’s so different than the fury he had a few minutes ago. “Your treat, right?”

I smile at him, my cheeks aching as they pull up enough to hide the freckles under my eyes. “Yup. I’ll even throw in a pastry for the heart attack I probably caused when I slammed my hands on the walls.”

“Only if me agreeing makes up for the fact that I made you fall in the shower.” We make it to the elevators and Jean presses the call button to take us down the four floors to the apartment’s lobby; both us agreeing it’s way too early for stairs.

“You didn’t make me fall.”

He smirks as we walk in and as the door shuts us into the small space, the shiny walls enough to create eternal reflections of the two of us as I look at Jean for a reason for his smiling. He glances at me before shifting his vision to the lit numbers on the elevator’s control panel. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at my lips”

The doors shut and it’s like a sauna as I feel my face heat up; my only reaction too slam my hands back against the walls of the small space. This time taking Jean with me and probably still causing a heart attack that I can hopefully snuff out as I slam my entire body straight into his and find his lips in the same passion as his does mine.

His tongue swiping furiously against my lips as I let them fall open and revel in the feeling of Jean’s tongue lapping its way into my mouth. I groan into it and he responds and lets his hands travel up my spine before finding the nape of my neck where my hair tapers off and he tugs hard. Hard enough to get me reeling and slamming a hand hard against the emergency stop button on the control panel and pushing my hips harder against his – searching for more friction that my lower half desperately needs.

He can tell what I want – what I need – when he lets his hand that isn’t consistently tugging at my roots to palm hurriedly at the front of my slacks; his entire hand kneading into me, making me gasp against his mouth as my hands trail up and down his sides. “Fuck. Jean.”

He chuckles at me and I open my eyes that I didn’t even know I had closed to find him smirking up at me, his lips swollen and pretty pink, the same color as his cheeks. His beauty throws me off and I can’t hear anything other than the rush of warmth inside me as my blood rushes down into my crotch where Jean’s hands are still working. And he’s saying something into my ear but it doesn’t come across as English.

Because it’s not English.

He’s whispering to me in French.

Holy shit.

Holy high hell oh my god.

I don’t even know what he’s saying but I can feel myself getting closer to the metaphorical cliff to euphoria as he keeps mumbling into my ear.

I lean into Jean and I push him further into the wall behind him as I try to stay steady on my feet.

This is too much. The guy speaks French and gives me a handy through my clothes and I’m unravelling like a fucking virgin. I moan into the closest part of Jean’s skin I can find as I feel him shudder underneath me as I sputter out a throaty “Jean” into the side of his neck, right under his ear.

Memories of being in the shower and getting hard at the thought of Jean under me has me groaning even more as I feel Jean’s hands tighten around me and just how the hell is he doing this through two layers of clothes?

He turns his head enough for him to press his lips to my ears. “Hey, Marco. You’re still a perv.”

My eyes shoot open as I feel the warmth leave my dick and his hands come up to push me off of him. I trip over my feet and fall on my ass for the third time today and stare back up at Jean, his smirk confusing the hell out of me as he makes a show of wiping his hand on the backs of his pants. He turns back to stare at the lit numbers and hits the button to get us moving again.

I stay on the ground, the tent in my pants making it painful to move and confusion in my head as I stare at Jean who’s acting like nothing’s even happened. “What the fuck?”

The elevator dings and the door’s slide open slowly. Jean looks down at me, a glint in his eyes as he starts backing out of the elevator. The doors are sliding shut in front of him but he sticks a hand between them to say one quick thing before turning away.

“And you thought you could seduce me with crap coffee and a slice of banana nut bread. Try harder next time. Ask me on a real date and maybe I’ll say yes.”

He moves his hands away, and with me sitting on my ass like an idiot letting my pants wrinkle and underwear soil as I feel it getting wetter and wetter down there, he waves at me as he takes a single steps back, letting the door shut automatically. “See ya later, Marco.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments and kudos and everything letting me know what you guys think. This was very much a needed thing after studying all day so excuse how thrown together it feels but I really just wanted to write a Marco that's a total mess around Jean. And also the prompt spoke to me and I couldn't just ignore it. 
> 
> Jean’s French whispering included (I didn't include them because I don't trust google translate and it's really late so I can't just ask tumblr for these things):  
> -Tu es mignon. Dommage que vous êtes un pervers. (You’re cute. Too bad you’re a pervert.)  
> -Je vas te faire encule , mais alors je prendre une douche pendant une heure et je serais en retard au travail. (I’d fuck you but then I’d have to shower for an hour and I’d be late to work.)
> 
>  
> 
> my tumblr is [mamaarachne](http://mamaarachne.tumblr.com/)


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